Chapter 5: The Doorknob to Another World
Clara read the letters addressed to her sons, her eyes widening until she felt them begin to sting from having forgotten to blink. Behind each letter was an additional sheet of stationery with an explanatory letter for parents.
"Muggle," Clara read aloud, "Is that what they call us? It sounds like some kind of Pokemon."
According to the letter, Hogwarts had a registry of names that magically appeared on the registry invitation list upon the 11th year of a witch or wizard's life based on eligible blood ties or those with magical abilities within a reasonable vicinity. It was true, the letter explained, that there were very few children from other countries who were sent these letters, but this was largely due to the fact that the English Wizarding community was very close-knit.
"But exactly how am I supposed to get to….Scotland?" Clara said, squinting as she looked at the scrawled return address on the envelope.
As though answering her question, she read the next line, which held the following words.
To attend your parent-professor conference, simply take the knob and press it against any solid wall. When you hear a knock, turn the handle and step inside. Your child or children may attend as well, but please do not bring familiars or other animals as it interferes with the spells.
"Familiars? Spells?" she said skeptically, "What else do they expect me to do, ride a broomstick?"
She stared at the door knob dubiously. For a moment, she doubted and her conviction wavered. It had to be a joke. But then again, she'd seen her sons do improbable things, and in her heart of hearts she knew it wasn't a laughing matter at all.
"Boys!" she called, making her way into the front room where her sons lazed in front of their favorite summer morning programs.
"Yeah, mom?" Ryan asked, turning toward his mother while Rick just groaned and grumbled about missing perfectly good commercials.
"Now Rick, don't be disrespectful," Clara said, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.
"But I'm Ryan!" Rick said, his face deadpan.
"Nice try, Rick," Clara replied with a knowing look, "But I'm sure your brother doesn't appreciate your attempts to frame him for being rude."
She'd never had trouble telling them apart no matter what they did to try and trick her. They acted like this irritated them to no end, but she knew better.
Ryan stuck his tongue out at his brother, who mirrored the expression and Clara was struck for a moment at how much they resembled their father.
He said he was a twin too.
Maybe this school could help her find Fred or connect with his family at the very least. The letter had said that they were a tight-knit community. For the millionth time, she wished she knew Fred's last name. It wasn't exactly like it was an uncommon first name.
"I need you both to get dressed," she said, trying to keep her tone positive.
"Mom? What's that in your hand?" Ryan asked, pointing at the envelopes she still held clasped tightly in her fist.
"They came through the kitchen window, actually...by owl," she said truthfully.
"What? No way!" Rick jumped up from the couch and zoomed past her, sticking his head through the doorway to the kitchen and groaned with disappointment to find it bereft of owls.
"Well if you used that much energy to keep your room clean, I wouldn't have to get on your case nearly as often," Clara replied with a smirk.
"Is this some kind of prank?" Rick said sulkily as he plodded back to the couch and flopped down with his arms crossed, "Because it's really not funny."
"Well, maybe now you will understand how it feels next time you get some bright idea about pranking Mr. Greenwood again," Ryan said, sticking out his tongue.
"You liked the idea when I told you about it," Rick accused back, sticking out his tongue to emphasize his point.
"Ahem! You are aware that as your mother, I can punish you for incriminating yourselves, right?" Clara said, putting her hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow.
The two boys sat up rigidly as they realized what they'd done.
"But I suppose I could conveniently forget that I heard anything at all if you are dressed and in the kitchen in less than five minutes starting...NOW!"
The two jumped up and ran down the hall to their room so quickly that they very nearly left cartoonish puffs of smoke behind.
Clara smiled and looked back down at the letters, skimming through the information again. She had already put one of the doorknobs in her purse, but the other was tucked in her pocket. There was no time or date listed.
The twins stampeded into the kitchen, both in jeans and t-shirts. Clara sighed as she slid her purse onto her shoulder.
It would have to do.
"Where are we going?" Rick asked excitedly as his brother yawned and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal his bellybutton.
They were growing up so quickly. Already she could tell that she'd need to take them shopping for new clothing within a month or so.
How could such tiny little babies have grown so much already. How could her sons be so tall? It seemed almost like a kind of magic in and of itself, though she knew that it was not.
"Well," she said, pulling the brass knob from her pocket, "To be honest, I'm not quite sure, but I want you two to trust me. Can you do that?"
They nodded in unison.
Clara approached the kitchen wall slowly with the knob held out in her hand as though trying to open an invisible door. She reached the wall, which was covered in a wallpaper that was probably all the rage in the 1970's but had yellowed slightly and faded with age, and pressed the knob against the flat surface.
At first, nothing happened. But then, she felt a tug against her hand, as though she were being pulled by a giant magnet. With a metallic hum, the knob pulled free from her hand and stuck fast against the wall as everyone stared with wide eyes.
A deep resounding noise, like the sound of ice cracking, shot through the room and Clara jumped back with a yelp.
A thin rectangular crack of light shone from the wall in the perfect shape of a door, and before they could say a word, a deep knock sounded on the other side.
"What was that?" Ryan said in a tiny voice.
"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out!" Rick said, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Well, it is rude not to answer the door," Clara said, hoping that her voice didn't waver.
"I'm gonna doooo it!" Rick called out in a singsong tone.
Clara felt Ryan slip his hand into hers silently and as an afterthought she thrust out her other hand, grabbing Rick by the wrist. He turned back to look at her with a confident smirk and she tried to smile back.
"Just so we don't get separated, ok?" she said softly.
Rick's other hand had already grasped the knob and was twisting it open. He stepped back as the wall opened just like a door and they all walked through hurriedly, feeling a strange tingling sensation wash over them that made each of them squint and sneeze as though they'd looked directly at the sun.
When Clara recovered and got a proper look around, she realized that they were standing in what appeared to be a rather medieval looking office, the muted lighting flickering cheerily as a fire roared in the nearby fireplace. To her left, she saw a massive wall of paintings, the dancing light giving her the impression that the people therein were sleeping.
A older woman with rounded glasses and a pointed green velvet hat sat behind an impressive oak desk before them.
"Please, sit down," she said kindly, gesturing to three chairs that had not been there mere moments ago.
"Awesome!" Rick exclaimed excitedly, "How did you do that?"
"Frederick Summers!" Clara said sharply, "It's rude to address people before being formally introduced!"
The woman behind the desk chuckled, her pinched face relaxing into a small smile.
"That's quite all right, Ms. Summers," she said primly, "I shall start the introductions, then. My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. I am the headmistress at this school."
"This is a school?" Ryan asked, his eyes wide as he studied the suit of armor by the wall.
"Indeed, Mr. Summers," the Headmistress replied, "And has your mother explained to you exactly what sort of school this is?"
"No, I-" Clara stopped and blushed with embarrassment, "To be honest, I sorta doubted that it was, well, real."
McGonagall looked at Clara over her spectacles and gestured to indicate the room around them.
"Am I to assume by your expression that this lives up to your expectations of reality?" she asked with the tiniest of smirks.
"Oh, I doubt I could have hallucinated any of this by myself," Clara replied.
"Excuse me," Ryan said, his hazel eyes going brown with confusion, "Miss Headmistress?"
"Professor or Headmistress is fine," McGonagall replied, smiling kindly.
"Then...Headmistress...can you please tell me more? This is all so new to me...and..." Ryan took a step back and toed at the carpet.
"Of course," the Headmistress replied, standing and spreading her hands wide, "I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
"Hear, hear!" said an amused voice, and Clara turned to see an elderly wizard with a long white beard beaming at her from one of the portraits, his blue eyes twinkling as he clapped loudly.
"Albus!" The Headmistress chided, "Don't you think they're already overwhelmed by all of this?"
But Clara didn't hear what the painting replied because she'd fallen to the floor in a dead faint.